Whole
by Lady Calina
Summary: Ch5 Up! Post S5 Finale: One week after her wedding, Amy finds herself finally falling apart in the face of one thing the Doctor can't defeat. Rated M for Future Lemons & Violence.
1. Broken

This is my very first Doctor Who story so don't hesitate to let me know if I get something wrong. If at the end of this I have a better understanding, I'll do a rewrite. I love reviews but I won't beg for them, I just hope that everyone enjoys the madness that's been building in my not-quite-right mind. This takes place a week after the season five finale, but at this time I have no other real direction whatsoever and am just letting my imagination lead the way. Come with me, won't you?

I do not own Doctor Who or anything associated with it.

* * *

Throughout the night the steady hum of the TARDIS was what Amy came to find her sole comfort in. She lay still, her lithe form curled into the fetal position as she tried to drift off into unconsciousness. Nothing could ease her, however, not even that mechanic purr she'd come to love so much. The sound that meant _home_, that one place in all the cosmos that her dreams of faraway worlds and brilliant aliens weren't something to be scoffed at, but explored and nurtured. And they were, so much so Amy thought, closing her eyes tighter as she tried feebly to force herself to sleep. At last, though, the tears she'd tried so hard to withhold finally gave way, quietly slipping down across her cheek before her pillow caught them.

She bit her bottom lip, using every bit of strength she had to keep herself from quaking with sobs. She couldn't wake Rory now, not after the day they'd had. She just needed to sleep and perhaps in the morning everything would be as it ought to, she lied to herself. Things would never be as they ought to be, they would never be good or right again. Besides, she reasoned, when would morning be? Days seemed to run together inside the TARDIS lately, the only punctuations coming at meal times and the sporadic bouts of sleep she managed. She didn't need to sleep, only wait for everyone else to wake up. Then technically, regardless of what time it was, it would be a new day. New start.

Time was strange in that way and, depending on how you looked a it, it could be a blessing or a curse. Amy could remember when there never seemed to be enough time in the day, never enough time with her Doctor. No amount of running, fighting, dramatics or danger could have changed that. As of late, however, that had all changed. What she was sure had only been a week already felt like years and should have only felt like moments, considering her newlywed status.

Newlywed. The phrase stopped her self-destructing thought pattern for a moment as she felt her stomach clench. By all accounts, this was supposed to be the happiest time of her life, and even more so considering the unique journey that that life was on. Any normal woman would think it enough, more than enough, in fact. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out, however, that Amelia Jessica Pond was not any _normal_ woman. No. It took a daft but brilliant old man to see it: her raggedy Doctor. Her imperfect, hyperactive, silly, gorgeous Doctor.

Rory's breathing had finally steadied beside her, indicating he had finally slipped into a deep sleep as Amy breathed a sigh of relief. Slowly and quietly she slipped out of bed, every muscle tensed so as not to wake her husband. As she reached out to grasp the doorknob, the TARDIS gave a slight lurch and she held in a gasp. They'd landed somewhere, which meant the Doctor was awake, she realized as she opened the door and checked both ends of the corridor. With no sign of him, she stepped out into the long hall and began to make her way towards the library. She could think there, and she knew why.

She strolled through the halls that led to her destination, not quite lingering but not exactly hurried as she raised her arms and ran her slender fingertips along the copper and gold tinged walls. Something calmed her when she did it, almost as if she could feel something hush away her worries and promise that someday, though she couldn't know when, everything would be alright. Perhaps it was the TARDIS's way of communicating since they were, after all, linked in a way now. Amy wondered if that meant the TARDIS could feel her pain, and if so, since the Doctor was also linked to it, could _he_?

Coming upon the large door of the library, she opened it quietly and stepped into the massive room, greeted by the smell of dusty old books as she smiled weakly. It was the first time she had smiled in awhile, genuinely at least. Collapsing onto the rich brown leather sofa, she turned her head into the decorative pillows that adorned it and inhaled deeply. This, this was her safe place. There were no tears here; only smiles, hugs and reassuring kisses. Curling up once more as she felt the leather begin to absorb her body's warmth, Amy took one last deep breath and tried her best to hold back the sobs that threatened to shake her. There were no tears here.


	2. Bruised

A huge thank you to Eleanor B-F, this tale's first reviewer, and to everyone else who has reviewed!

I do not own Doctor Who or anything associated with it.

* * *

A comforting warmth enveloped Amy's body and she sighed, turning over and nuzzling herself against into it. A soft voice stirred her, her eyes opening slowly as she awoke to find its source.

"Good morning, Pond." The Doctor's lopsided smile greeted her and she felt something in her give way as she realized they were nose to nose, their limbs entangled upon the now-warm leather couch. She choked back a sob and forced a smile, but at that proximity the Doctor could see even the faintest of tears gathering at the corners of her eyes. He reevaluated the situation; realizing that her face was swollen, her eyelids red and raw from too much friction. Something was most defiantly wrong, something more than what he'd assumed to be a nightmare by her unconscious cries of _"Don't go...", "Please..",_ but he wouldn't pry, despite his obvious want to._ 'No',_ he thought. Whatever could make his impossibly brave, impossibly stubborn Amelia this unhappy, was something that she would need to come to him with. He'd wait, no matter how long it took for her to find the words. He had all the time in all of the worlds to wait for her.

Amy simply lay there, the Doctor's hand rubbing reassuringly along her arm as she tried so hard to be as brave as he thought she was. She really wasn't all that brave, though, she never had been. Only in her moments with him had she somehow found the strength to fight, to continue on. He made everything and everyone around him better, stronger. That was why she loved him.

Her eyes squeezed shut, the building tears within them falling away and across her reddened cheeks._ 'Tell him everything. No... Yes!'_ she argued with herself. The facts were there, so clear and perfectly plain, and somehow they were so difficult to deal with when they should have been the easiest... well, perhaps not the easiest, but certainly not so hard to face. She cleared her throat, finding it parched, and opened her eyes to see the Doctor's face etched in concern._ 'He knows,'_ she thought,_ 'he always knows these things. He just never talks about it.'_ She wished he would, just this time, just make it a little better... a little easier. _'Just do it, Pond. Open your mouth and say something, anything.'_

"I love you..." she blurted, though it came out as a mangled cry. The Doctor's eyes widened for a moment, more confused than anything else. Of coarse Amy loved him, she always had. He loved her just as much, so why is she...? _'Oh.'_ realization hypothetically smacked him across the face. She _loved_ him. That _did_ present a problem, what with her being, well, married._ 'Married to Rory, no less.'_, he thought with a slight frown.

It wasn't that he didn't like the man, he just... well, _him_. The Doctor had no idea how Amy could have agreed to marry someone like Rory, for as genuinely sweet and doting as he usually was, he was still quite thick._ 'Very thick, in fact.'_, he continued on in his head before realizing he'd retreated into his mind and left his Amelia just staring at him, waiting for a response. Her bottom lip was quivering, as if everything in her world hung on his next words. _'She really has no idea.'_ he said to himself, stopping the incessant rubbing of her arm and gently gliding it around her waist.

Amy winced slightly as the Doctor's hand grazed her side, cursing herself for it as she felt the Doctor's posture stiffened immediately with worry. He pulled away, sitting up as he looked down at her and spoke.

"What's wrong?"

"I say 'I love you', and you ask me what's wrong?" She sniffled slightly, hoping she could distract him._ 'Well,'_ she thought, _'I suppose something would have to be wrong with anyone who could love a mad alien.'_

"You winced." His voice brought her back from the brief thought. She knew he'd noticed. _'Damn it.'_

"Its nothing," she averted her eyes and cursed herself as she did so, hoping he'd think it just another bruise or bump from a rough landing of the TARDIS. "I'm fine."

_'She's a horrible liar'_, he thought before demanding, "Let me see."

Her eyes flooded with panic as she stumbled to find her voice, sputtering, "No, thank you, I-"

"That wasn't a request," his eyes narrowed, his usually light tone suddenly becoming very authoritative, "Let me see."

She let out a breath that she'd been unaware she'd been holding as she sat up slowly and untied the sash of her robe. As the thick material fell away from her shoulders, she lifted the side of her nightie just enough to show the Doctor what he wanted to see. He really hadn't wanted to see it, he realized as he took in the sight before him with shock.

Several thin, finger-shaped bruises littered Amy's right side, varying in shades of green, yellow, purple and black. Streaks of molted red bruises intersected the others. His eyes then trailed up to the hand holding up her gown, noticing several small bruises it as well._ 'Defensive marks.'_ he realized. The Doctor drew a careful breath, unsure of what to say next as she looked at him as if he were angry with her. _'Oh, my Amelia, what has happened to you?'_

He met Amy's gaze and held it for a moment before speaking. "This," he motioned to her injuries, "Is not '_nothing_'." Leaning forward, he reached out to check her marks for signs of broken ribs but stopped when she dropped the cloth back over her and inched back. He could see the confusion flash across her face, he knew that she knew she could trust him and yet here she was... cowering.

Amy squeezed her eyes shut, upset with her reaction. He was the only thing she had now, the one person who could never hurt her and she'd not only lied to him, but insulted him by not trusting him to touch her.

"I'm sorry." She spoke finally, opening her eyes to find the Doctor's face wrinkled with confusion.

"For what?"

"Lying to you." She replied, "I won't do it again, I promise." The worry in her voice threw him further into the loop he was in._ 'That's it,'_ he thought, _'It needs to be done.'_ His expression softened as he reached up to cradle her head in his hands, their faces hovering closely.

"I apologize in advance for this." He murmured, searching her eyes for some sort of understanding.

"For wha-" She stopped, her eyes slamming shut as his forehead met hers and his finger slid upwards to her temples.

It wasn't something he would usually do, but even when in obvious distress Amy seemed to give him no other choice in how to help her. As he delved into her mind, he realized for the first time just how lonely his brave Amelia had always been. He pushed aside images of her as a girl, making dolls of them alone in her room as she hoped for him to come take her away, with a heavy heart. Ridicule from her peers as she exclaimed that there were indeed such things as aliens, spaceships, time travel; it all but drowned him, this isolation. He'd done this to her. In a way he knew he did it to all of his companions, but not to this extent... not like Amy.

She'd had no friends, no one to turn to and no one to tell her it would be alright, all because of a slight miscalculation. His miscalculation, his fault. 'The Girl Who Waited' was not the fairytale title that he'd always treated it as. His Amelia had waited. Alone. For twelve years. For him.

An image caught him, drawing him out of his distraction as he watched the scene carefully:

_The three of them sat in the control room, the Doctor adjusting the TARDIS's controls as they left their most recent planet, Pliexia. Amy sat on the railing looking on the Doctor adoringly, seemingly in a trance as a small but very content smile curled on her lips. He'd been too distracted with his work at the time to notice Rory's expression as he watched Amy. He was nothing short of furious._

_He grabbed Amy's arm and quietly pulled her to him, whispering what the Doctor couldn't hear then but could now._

_"I can see, you know, you don't have to rub it in my face."  
_

_Amy looked back at him, her eyes wide as she spoke, "What are you talki-?"_

_"The way you look at him, Amy." he interrupted, "I see it." His voice broke as if he might cry, but his anger won out. "Do you love him?" He finally asked, his voice still quiet as his watched her with wild eyes._

_"Rory..." Amy tried to find the words, tried to be so careful. "Let's go back to our room." He nodded in agreement, this was a private matter, even if it did involve the Doctor himself._

_Once inside the small bedroom, Amy leaned against the door and let out a shaky breath as she decided to be truthful._

_"Yes."_

_Rory met her eyes, "What?"_

_"Yes, I love him." She repeated. The words hung in the air like smoke, lingering as she watched Rory turn away from her and place one hand on the side of his head. After a moment of silence, Amy finally spoke again, "Rory?"_

_"Shut up." It came out calmly, but his body betrayed his tone as he began to shake slightly. Amy stepped forward and reached out for his shoulder. Despite her feelings for the Doctor, she couldn't let Rory suffer this way. Though, she supposed, she'd been making him suffer all along._

_"Rory..." she tried again._

_"I said '**SHUT UP!**'" he bellowed, spinning around to grasp Amy's wrist as he flung her away from him. He stepped forward as she stumbled back, trying to catch her balance. "You're my **wife**. My **WIFE**!" She struggled to speak, never having seen him this way before in all their time together. Fear began to creep up inside of her._

_He shot out one hand, catching her shoulder roughly as she lost her balance fell back against the floor. This wasn't the same person she'd once known, she could see it in his eyes as he towered over her for a moment before kicking her in the side._

_"Get up!" He growled, and Amy tried to do as he said as the pain in her side shot up and caused her to fail._

_"I can't, it hurts." she whimpered, terrified as she watched the eyes she'd come to know so well become black with fury. He bent over, gripping her shirt as he pulled her up and threw her forwards onto the bed. She cried out in pain as her ribs smacked the mattress, struggling to turn over and faltering. She felt him approach her from behind, grasping the thin material of her skirt and ripping it away._

_"You're my **wife**! My **wife**!" he kept repeating the words, drowning out Amy's cries to stop. Rory's fingers grabbed at her sides, digging into the already-bruising flesh as her cries became unintelligible. They simply were._

_The Doctor wouldn't hear, Rory knew, their room was far enough away for the 'privacy' of the newlyweds. As he held her in place, Amy's arms tried to swing behind her helplessly and caught his side, enraging him further. He turned her over and raised one arm, using his weight to hold her down as he struck the side of her head._

_A deep ringing sounded in her ears as her head fell to the side, her body unable to respond to what it was going through. Tears streamed down her cheeks as her open, empty eyes stared off and one last word fell from her mouth in a whisper, "Doctor..."_

The memory faded to black as the Doctor opened his eyes and allowed Amy to wake. She was shivering as she looked at him, so many feelings flashing across her face. He realized they'd been to the planet Pliexia only just after their wedding, and now understood that for one entire week this had been his Ameila's life. He should have seen the changes in her sooner, noticed Rory's sudden dominate attitude, something... anything.

He had, yet again, allowed her to be hurt. She had been alone this entire time, with him just within reach. His hearts broke as she continued to look at him, unsure of what he thought of her now. Somehow, even after everything she'd been though, he thought, she found it in her to love him. He embraced her gently, her head resting in the curve of his neck as he kissed her cheek. She had stopped crying, but she body still shook with sadness, or perhaps relief now that he understood. Rocking her softly, he felt her begin to relax in his arms and he murmured, "I'm sorry... I'm so, so sorry."

He didn't deserve that kind of love.


	3. Blame

Thank you to everyone who has reviewed. Though I know there are some who are upset at what I've done, I can only say that after watching so many impossible plot lines merge over the years, my hope is that we've all learned to never take anything at face value. The Doctor never does. Enjoy!

I do not own Doctor Who or anything associated with it.

* * *

After Amy finally allowed him to take her to the infirmary and let him wrap her side, the Doctor handed her two small pills.

"It'll help." He said as she swallowed them quickly. "Let's get you back to bed. It's early yet, and you could use a bit more rest."

Amy's eyes widened with worry, shaking her head as she opened her mouth to protest. She couldn't go back to her room, _their_ room. Her stomach turned with disgust and fear at the mere thought of it.

"No, no." He hushed her, having no intention of letting Rory near her at the moment. "You'll stay in my room, and you can lock the door. I have the key so you'll be perfectly safe." Taking her hand in his, he helped her up from the table and escorted her down the winding corridors to his room. Her shaking had subsided only to be replaced with exhaustion, her legs wobbling beneath her slightly as they entered. _'She probably hasn't slept well in days.'_ the Doctor thought, helping Amy into bed. He knelt down beside her, keeping her hands in his and leaned in to kiss her forehead.

"Now sleep." he whispered, pressing his forehead to hers, "I'll find a way to make this better, I promise." He hoped to himself that he could keep that promise. He hadn't been so great at keeping them lately.

Sleep had already begun to pull at her eyelids as she looked up at him, "Thank you." she murmured, falling away from reality. Once her breathing steadied the Doctor kissed her hands and rose, his forehead knit in concentration. Closing the door behind him, he turned to lock it and leaned against the frame. It would still be hours until Rory woke, and probably much longer until Amy would. _'Good'_, he thought. He needed to think.

His stride matched the racing pace of his thoughts as he rushed through the halls towards the control room. _'Think, think, think!'_ he chided himself, entering the room._ 'Alright, lets look at this logically...'_ Taking a deep breath, he sat down._ 'One: yes, any man would be reasonably upset were his wife to fall in love with another man...'_ Promptly standing, he began to pace the room, circle after circle. _'But Rory **isn't** just any man, he's **Rory**. What could have set him off? Certainly **not** Amy watching me, she does that all the time...'_ He continued arguing with himself both out loud in his mind, sentences that would've be fragmented had anyone been around to hear.

Leaning against the console, the Doctor looked up at the monitor and sighed as he bounced dramatically. "Come on, come on..." He said aloud, tilting his head back as he turned in a circle. "Okay!" he clapped his hands together, "let's backtrack! They fought, yes. She was watching me, yes, but...?"

A frustrated growl escaped him as he stomped, trying to force recollection. "What, what, what, what!" He looked up at the TARDIS and sighed, his energy seemingly gone for a moment as he leaned against the console again. He couldn't seem to ever get it right when it came to his Amelia, he couldn't even help her now when she needed him the most._ 'Some honeymoon.'_ he thought, feeling slightly defeated. _'You would have thought that going to Pliexia would...**That's it!**'_

"Pliexia!" He exclaimed, all the energy rushing back up through his body as he shot up and spun around to face the console again. His nimble fingers tapped the keyboard furiously as he watched the monitor. "Yes, yes..." as what he was looking for started to appear. The hushed and steady purr of the TARDIS grew louder as he click-clacked away at the keys, his eyes wide as everything began to come together not only in his mind, but on the screen before him. Then he saw it.

"No, no, no, no, no..."

It felt as though he'd had the wind knocked out of him as he raised a hand to smooth back his unruly hair, mouth hung open in shock. He'd known. He'd known about this... read it somewhere once, but disregarded it as hearsay. It was so impossible that he'd just never thought it, well, possible.

_'...and there's nothing I can do.'_ he thought,_ 'I knew this all along... oh, Rory...'_ he couldn't move, the weight of his defeat too heavy for the moment to resist. Had he not doubted what he'd read, paid attention, took more caution...

Now Rory, whom he'd come to care for so much, would die... and the Doctor was solely to blame.


	4. Plague of Pliexia

Thanks so much for your patience and reviews, everyone. My inspiration comes and goes, so I can never promise when a new chapter comes, but I never try to force it for fear of it _seeming_ forced.

I do not own Doctor Who or anything associated with it.

* * *

As he woke Amy, the Doctor felt that familiar pang of sorrow begin to leech away at his being. She would never forgive him, not for this, and he didn't blame her. He wouldn't forgive himself, but that was another issue altogether. One would have thought that in over nine hundred years one would have learned to be more cautious, to heed every warning... no matter how ludicrous they seemed. Enfolding her hands in his, he knelt beside his bed and held her gaze steadily, doing his best to remain calm. She would need that from him.

Somewhere in her semi-unconscious state, Amy could still sense it: he was worried. Something had happened. "What's wrong?"

_'She'd been so peaceful,'_ he thought. "I need you to come with me." His voice was so controlled, so empty of any real emotion that Amy was quickly and totally alert, having forgotten her exhaustion. He was hiding something. Again.

Her eyes flashed, wanting a real explanation. "Not until you tell me whats wrong." Crossing her arms over her chest defiantly, she awaited that explanation.

Sighing, he shook his head. "There's no time for me to repeat myself, Amy." He lightly patted her hand, rising up. "Just please... get up, dress and come with me." Turning his back to protect her modesty, he closed his eyes and hoped that for just this one time she'd listen. He let out a sigh of relief as he heard her doing exactly as he'd said, gathering up the clothes he'd brought her and dressing.

_'She'll never forgive you. If you're going to say it, and I mean ever, ever say it...'_ his thoughts were interrupted by Amy's touching his shoulder, turning him to face her.

"Alright now." She narrowed her eyes, "I'm dressed. So what. Is. Wrong?"

He grasped her hand and opened the door, leading her out and into the corridor. For once, she simply followed. No questions, no requests, nothing. She just followed. _'Say it...'_ his inner voice nagged, _'She should know. Has the right to know... at least before you destroy her world again.'_

And he would do just that. He knew it. After all, that's just what he did, wasn't it? Waltz into the lives of amazing, beautiful, strong women and bring their worlds down around them like some sort of deceptive apocalypse. The Oncoming Storm. He'd earned it, in more ways than one.

As they came to the control room, the Doctor watched Amy for a moment and held his breath. He couldn't think straight, at least not straight enough to form the words he needed to say properly. She closed the distance between them, her hand slowly stroking his arm as she tried to make sense of his attitude. That was most certainly not helping matters, that touching. Touching needed to stop. If it could. _'Do it...'_

"Doctor, you look like you've just seen a ghost." Her chin tilted upwards, lips nearly touching his as he looked down at her with eyes that held something she couldn't make sense of. "Talk to me. What's the matter?"

_'Do it...'_ He took her by the arms and held her slightly away from him, "Before I tell you what's going on, there's something you ought to know." Even now, he could feel himself fighting the statement, feeling so selfish for wanting to say it... especially now.

Brows creased in confusion, she waited, "Alright, so, what..."

_'DO IT!'_

"Amelia Pond, I love you." The words came out so quickly that they seemed alien to her, sounding more like _'Eel On The Menu'_ for some reason. It took a moment for her mind to space out the syllables and form them into individual words. As they came together, it did nothing to ease the confusion in her eyes.

"What did you..."

"I told you, Pond." He interrupted, pointing as if to make his point, "There is no time for me to repeat myself... though I suppose I just did. See that? Wasted time we don't have."

She didn't hear him, the room's sound had seemed to fade into a hum as she finally spoke again, "You said you love me."

"Amelia." His voice seemed so weary now, yet urgent, as he turned the monitor to face her. As the light illuminated her fair skin, she tried to focus her reeling mind. He wouldn't speak until asked to, hoping that she could make sense of it herself. _'Please, please make sense of it yourself...'_

Her jeweled eyes were intense as they took in the information before them, and at last she asked, "What's an empath?"

His hearts fell at the words, knowing he'd have to explain. Knowing that no matter how he explained, nothing would make it better, good, ever again. His gaze shifted to the floor, avoiding hers as he spoke, "When I chose Pliexia for your and Rory's honeymoon, it was because of the properties it held."

A long silence hung between them, and before long Amy couldn't help but ask, "What properties?"

As his grip tightened on the railing behind him, the Doctor leaned against the metal piping and kept his eyes down. "I'm getting to that." His tone was low as he continued, "Pliexia's atmosphere is known to sense and enhance ones most dominate emotion. My _thought_, as wrong as it was, was that all the loving emotions between you two would create a blissful trip between you on that world."

His head tilted upwards, eyes fixed on the ceiling as he tried to talk to the beautiful, if confused, woman before him. "I did not, however, take into account how Rory's feelings might change during the trip." Turning to face her, he finally looked at her and saw the worry in her face, "The story was that Pliexia's magic was the source of a virus that caused swelling of the brain, and the warping of the brain was what cause the 'enhanced' feelings. I saw it as a fable, something to explain the rather large size of the planet's inhabitant's heads."

Amy couldn't help but laugh a little. _'Perhaps the Doctor has this virus? After all, his head is... well...'_

He continued without noticing her inappropriate actions, "But I was wrong, Amy."

_'Wrong?' What?'_ she thought, then spoke. "So... there is a virus?"

"Yes." The word had a sense of finality to it, as if that were the end of it, but it wasn't. _'Not by a long shot,'_ he thought before continuing, "It presents usually in small cases with visitors. What most traveler's experience is an effect somewhat similar to a sugar pill: expect to feel something, you'll feel something. Whatever that 'something' is to you. But in that small number of people who do contract it..." His voice trailed off, looking down once more as he struggled to complete the sentence.

"What?" Amy insisted, "What happens?"

Slowly, he looked up at her, eyes glossed over and voice empty as he said, "It's fatal."

She held her breath for a moment, looking back to the monitor and then around the room as if trying to find help. "But what...?"

"Amy, I know you're tired." He stepped forward and grasped her arms once more, "I know this is alot at the moment but, as I've said for now the third time, we don't have time... It's... it's Rory."

Reality sunk in slightly as Amy's eyes unfocused and her body battled to stay upright, "So." she stammered, "he's dying?" As the Doctor nodded, she didn't feel like she supposed she ought to. _'Shouldn't there be a moment of sadness?'_ she wondered, _'shouldn't there be something there?'_ "Why aren't we sick as well, then? Why only Rory?" It was all she could really ask, all she could think of.

"Well, I have a few theories," he began, running one hand through his now-disheveled hair, "but the one that makes the most sense is how emotions effect the body. Namely, jealousy."

_'Oh.'_ Amy didn't need to hear more, but she let him continue, "Love can create euphoria, happiness unrivaled by any other emotion, but it itself is considered 'weak'... but jealousy can do horrible things, and not just to one's ego." He sighed, grasping the right words. "Jealousy is in itself destructive. It eats away at your sense of self, creates a general lack of trust with the world around you. In short, it consumes you... making it a very dominate emotion."

Reaching up, he shut off the monitor that Amy had forgotten was still on, blaring the facts right at her in a complicated pattern. "If Rory _was_ feeling jealous, as he often is, then that would act like a sort of beacon for the virus. It would home in on him, wanting the best possible host."

Again, the silence hovered around them, heavy before he spoke again, "As the virus progresses, and it does so rapidly, it begins to change its host... In Rory, I believe that was the cause of the incident between the two of you."

There it was. She'd been waiting for it to hit her, that pain, though it still wasn't what it ought to have been. There was no intense sense of sadness, of loss... just a sort of hollow acceptance. "So it wasn't him, then... just the virus..."

The Doctor nodded, quiet as he tried to gauge her reaction, but there was nothing. No tears, no silent sobs, just a vacant but shadowed stare. He'd seen that look before. In fact, he'd worn it often himself. Weariness. If only for that moment, his brilliant and beautiful Amelia Pond was done... with everything.


	5. Making Peace

Hello again! It's been a long time, but with the anticipation of Series 6 building I couldn't help but be urged to write some more! Here we go... Geronimo!

I do not own Doctor Who or anything associated with it.

* * *

_'This is what it feels like, to be dead inside.'_ Amy thought as she braced herself against the door frame of her soon-to-be former room. Watching the Doctor absently, she was too lost inside of herself to fully be present even if that was where she was required. She knew what was happening, what would happen, and as childish as it seemed she held on to the belief that not recognizing it would delay it. It wouldn't, she knew that somewhere deep down, but either way what was the point? Either way, this was it.

Rory hadn't slept much over the past week, and on the way to their room the Doctor had explained that only in the last stages of the virus did the afflicted actually rest. Though it wasn't really rest as much as it was the body shutting down, trying whatever possible to save itself. Earlier in the evening, when she'd breathed that sigh of relief at the feeling of Rory slipping into sleep, she had really been hearing him lose the battle... and she'd been relieved.

She felt something again. Disgust? It was so faint that she could barely make it out, but figured that was it. What else would be appropriate to feel at that realization?

"Amy." She heard the Doctor, her gaze even met his for a moment before dropping back to its unfocused state. His voice had been so low, barely a whisper as he motioned for her to come nearer to the bed. Nearer to Rory's stilled form. She wasn't moving. If this was going to happen, saying goodbye, she wanted it at least to be on her terms and this was happening too quickly. There wasn't enough time between tonight's events for her to fully process anything and she couldn't say goodbye until everything sunk in. After all, weren't they on a time machine? Time didn't exist here, and yet she never seemed to have enough of it. Therefore she wasn't moving. Not yet.

At least that had been the plan.

She tensed as she felt pressure on her arms, still not registering everything until she felt the floor no longer under her feet. As she came back to herself she was coming closer to Rory, though not walking._ 'What the hell?'_ Her senses still not fully there, she scanned the room only to find the Doctor gone. _'Again, what the...'_

"If you insist on being this way, I'll move you myself." Came from behind her, and finally she was fully herself again as she realized what was going on just in time to be set down on the bed beside Rory. Looking up, the Doctor had a slightly victorious look on his face._ 'Bastard spaceman.'_ He had picked her up by the arms and carried her to the bed, unwilling to watch her spend these last moments sulking inside of herself.

As she turned away from him to look down at Rory, he stepped back to where she'd stood before. One hand on the door frame and his head against that hand, he watched in silence as the shell of the girl he knew said goodbye to her best friend and her most recent enemy at the same time. He wished he could have extended the brief moment of confused excitement that had washed over her just moments earlier as he'd confessed everything. There just hadn't been enough time. Never enough time, not in 907 years. Sometimes he wondered if that was the plight of every race, no matter their lifespan, there was never enough time to live life as they wanted.

She was still quiet, only one hand resting on Rory's now-cooling arm as she watched his chest rise and fall at a more shallow and rapid pace. He could put her there, but he couldn't force her to say what needed to be said. He didn't know what could be said now, not ever. Rory wouldn't wake to hear whatever was said, but that wasn't the point. This was for Amy. He knew that no matter what her current state may be, she'd never forgive herself if she didn't at least try to say something at the end.

No matter how things ended, Rory had still been her best and only friend in those years she'd waited for the Doctor to return. Her entire childhood filled with only them, and now one was slipping away. Already gone, technically, just a matter of moments, and he knew he could never replace him... not really. _'But you **do** love her.'_ he argued with himself, _'In theory, you could at least try.'_ But not now, not right at this moment. For now, she still had Rory and he needed to let that last as long as possible.

Amy suddenly began to lean forward, breathing steadily as she brought her forehead to Rory's and sighed. Her body shook with suppressed tears as she simply placed her hand on either side of his head, rocking gently. According to his calculations and Rory's progress, he didn't have much longer. Minutes, maybe. Even if he had noticed sooner, though, it wouldn't have made a difference. This time there was no escape; no master plan. This time someone died.

"You always knew." Amy's voice echoed softly in the silence, the humming of the TARDIS quieted as if out of respect. "You never fought it, you just accepted it... but you always knew, and you loved me in spite of it." She closed her eyes, and though he knew she hurt, her voice remained empty as if she were merely a recording. After a long pause, she took a deep breath and steadied herself, yet still her voice wouldn't betray her. "I'm sorry."

As if on queue, Rory's chest rose and fell one last time, coming to a complete stop as the Doctor straightened and watched Amy pull away. She sat for a moment, her hands patiently folded on her lap, before speaking to him.

"He's gone."

The Doctor nodded, "Yeah."

"We couldn't have done anything." She said it as a fact, not a question, as if waiting for agreement. He knew she needed it.

"No." She rose, her eyes still refusing to meet his as she moved past him. Taking her arm, he pulled her back gently. His other hand moved to her chin, tilting her head up to force her to look at him. "I promise." She nodded, unable to say anymore as he let her go. Stepping out into the corridor, she walked with a purpose towards the kitchen as he paused and turned back to the room.

It was gone.

"What?" His hands shot out, running over the wall in front of him as he looked for anything to explain it. It was as though the walls had expanded over the door, closing off the room completely. _'How is that possi-'_ his thought was interrupted as the TARDIS lurched, the hallway's lights dimming suddenly while he was pushed back into the wall behind him. As the ship stabilized, he stood up and ran one hand over his face and through his hair, trying to compose himself. They had landed earlier... why was the ship rocking as if attempting to land?

Not stopping to think on it more, he took off towards the kitchen to check on Amy. She sat at the table, looking down at the surface as if not noticing his presence. As he sat beside her, he placed his hands over hers and simply remained there. There were no words for the moment, no way he knew to fix this. The quiet settled over them, his thumb rubbing reassuring circles over the top of her hand.

This was a moment that would have been interrupted by Rory's constant questions of what was next, but not now. Now it was as it once was, quiet understanding over a kitchen table, all those years and months ago. No matter the situation, there was no need for words between them. He sighed, feeling something other than misery start to seep in, though he couldn't place it.

It was Amy, surprisingly, who finally broke the silence. "Am I okay?"

He looked up, not sure of what she'd said. "What?"

"I'm asking you if I'm okay." Shaking his head, he knew what she meant.

"I don't think that's for me to determine." He sat back,watching her carefully. "What do you think?"

She sighed and closed her eyes. "I think there's something wrong with me."

_'Oh?'_ "Why's that?"

"I'm not sad." the way she said it by itself told him she was right, something was wrong.

"You certainly seem sad." One eyebrow raised in question, confused as to what she meant.

"No." shaking her head, she tried to think of another way for say it. "It's not like that. I can't _feel_ anything."

"I don't follow." he pressed.

"It's like I'm doing everything I'm supposed to, but nothing is registering." She couldn't find any other way to put it, really.

Nodding, he understood what she meant. "That's called 'shock'."

"Yeah, well," she blinked, shaking her head, "I don't like it." She stood to search the cabinet for that bottle of vodka-type alcohol they'd gotten a few planets back. Victoriously retrieving it, she poured herself a glass and returned to the table.

"See?" he smirked, "That means you're perfectly okay. No not-okay person would _like_ shock. Therefore, you're okay." She smiled halfheartedly at him as he feigned over-excitement. "Besides, what's that you said your aunt always told you?" She had no idea what he was talking about, but took a small sip of the clear alcohol as she let him think. "That's it! _'Fake it 'til you make it!'_."

Amy was suddenly thankful that it had been a small sip, as she spit it out laughing. "That's _so_ not what she was referring to, Doctor."

"Then wha..." his face scrunched up slightly in confusion, then: "Oh. Right."

"_There_ it is." she pointed, chuckling as he blushed. "Give the spaceman a prize."

He faked taking offense. "Oi, you."

"_'Oi'_, yourself." Grinning, she rose to put away the bottle. _'Maybe later.'_ "So what happened earlier? Did we land... again?"

He nodded, looking up at the ceiling as if checking for damage. "Sounded like it. I completely forgot, actually." Standing, he stepped towards the hallway . "I ought to check."

And then he was gone.

Amy rubbed her head therapeutically._ 'And you ought to follow, Pond.'_ she told herself, sighing as she felt more of the weight begin to lift from her shoulders. Maybe it was a good thing that they never had enough time after all, she thought. _'Keeps him from stopping to think too much. Now I know the game.'_ Laughing to herself, she turned and moved towards the control room, only to find him staring blankly at the monitor. _'Fantastic. Let's do this again.'_ she sighed.

"What is it?" after not receiving a response, she moved closer to him. "Doctor?"

"I don't understand." he shook his head, looking from her to the screen. "This isn't right... Can't be."

"You always say that, and everything is always fine." Leaning in a bit, she continued. "Could it _possibly_ be any worse than anything we've dealt with?"

Silence.

"Doctor?"

Silence.

_'Okay, unacceptable.'_ she determined, smacking his arm. He jumped and looked over at her finally. _'That's better.'_

"That hurt." he stated, rubbing his arm dramatically.

"You were catatonic." she brushed the comment off. "What's going on?"

He turned the monitor to face her for the second time that evening, but she didn't wait to read it herself. "Talk before I go out there myself and find out." After he stopped to look between her and the screen, she turned and began marching towards the door dramatically. Before she could reach for the handle a weight slammed into her back, forcing her to the ground. "Oi!" Rolling over, she found the Doctor on top of her. _'I oughta threaten to go outside more often.'_

"Pliexia." his voice was dangerously low as he spoke, "One week ago."

"What..." she let it set it for a second before her lips formed an 'o' of surprise. "No."

Sitting up, but still on top of her, he pointed at her accusingly. "Do you see what I mean when I tell you I don't have the words for it? I _literally_ mean-"

She cut him off. "Shut up." Amy couldn't think straight, and the rambling man on top of her wasn't helping things. As he looked down at her, slightly offended, she thought for a second... and then spoke. "We could fix it."

"No." he stood up, shaking his head. "No, we can't tamper with someone's death, Amy. Don't you think I thought of that?"

Sighing, she grabbed hold of the railing and helped herself up. "Figured there'd be a rule like that." Looking towards the door, she didn't understand what the point was then.

The Doctor didn't need her to say it to know that look on her face. "I don't know." he answered her unasked question, walking back to the console as his eyes fixated on the screen again, his fingers tapping away on the keyboard. Amy came to his side, watching him fly through one window to the next and the next after that. "I don't want you out there, though." he finally finished, turning off the screen as he sat down.

"So now what?"_ 'Ah, the back and forth begins.'_ he thought.

"We stay put."

"For how long?" Her arms were folded over her chest as she spoke. Did she really expect him to know?

He shrugged, a bit aggravated. "Dunno. Got a watch if you'd like to keep track, though."

Amy's eyes narrowed at his sarcasm. "Don't be smug."

"Don't ask questions I don't have answers to." she fell quiet at his matter-of-fact tone. When he finally stood and turned to leave she spoke.

"Doctor?" Stopping on the top step, he turned to face her, finding her looking a little less huffy and a lot more worried.

"Yes?" She shifted, looking back at the door before speaking.

"Are we okay?" The sound of fear that crept into her question caused him to step back down and close the distance between them, holding her against him as she placed her head on his shoulders, one hand protectively on the back of her head. _'Lie to her,'_ he told himself, _'just for a little while.'_

"Yeah, yeah. We're fine..." Looking up at the ceiling again, he had no idea if that was true or not, but he couldn't tell her that. "We're fine."

* * *

Hope everyone enjoyed! Next chapter already whirling through my head, so hopefully it'll be out soon! Remember to review if you can, it really drives me to hear from people, good or bad!


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